


An Awful Lot of Running to Do

by jesterlady



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Chance Meetings, F/M, Gen, Humor, One Shot, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesterlady/pseuds/jesterlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor loves junkyards.  He runs into the most interesting people, even ones he thought he'd never see again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Awful Lot of Running to Do

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own DW. The title is from the show.

It really had been a quiet day so far no matter what Rory said. After all, they’d gotten up late – eight o’clock by their time, the Doctor had been up for hours – and had a lovely breakfast. Then a nice stroll down the Champs-Elysees in Paris 1900 and it was not his fault that there was a time leak from the vortex that transported a very time-sick Time Agent right on top of Rory and his newly washed trainers, which were now, according to Rory, very uncomfortably wet.

The Doctor also refused to take responsibility for the coal mining incident in the Debura System and it was only a little bit his fault that those pygmies had decided that Amy was to be passed around as a party favor at their new king’s coronation. The Doctor would be rubbing his jaw from the rather forceful punches from both of his companions for awhile because of that little incident. Honestly, the fuss they made when it was all smoothed over and in the end Amy and Rory had gotten a nice gift certificate out of it.

He could understand Rory’s demand that they go back to the Tardis so he could wash off the interesting combination of coal dust and mud from the mud-slinging portion of the ceremony. The Doctor and Amy were slightly coal-dust-y but had been spared from the mud bit by ducking behind the aforementioned Rory who was being very childish about it in the Doctor’s opinion. They had thanked him very nicely for taking the brunt of the mud and there was no need for him to get all tetchy about it.

But one very long shower later - as Amy had gotten involved and the Doctor thought that had been the _really_ inconsiderate part of the day – they were finally on their way to Mintas 9 where the Doctor was looking forward to seeing their new shipment. He talked excitedly about it all the way there and as he was flinging open the Tardis doors. Amy and Rory walked outside and stopped, though not in awe and wonder as the Doctor had hoped they would.

“It’s a junkyard,” Rory said.

“You brought us to a junkyard,” Amy said unbelievingly.

“I’m rather fond of junkyards,” the Doctor said, hurt that they didn’t see its beauty. “So is the Tardis. You never know what you can find in one. Besides, Ponds, this isn’t any old junkyard. This is the junkyard of the universe!” He spread his arms wide to showcase the towering scraps of anything that were rather orderly lined up and stretching for miles. “No planet expels waste into the universe without prior approval and pick up scheduling from Mintas 9. You can find anything here. I once found a perfectly preserved banana crystallized in Geryus monkey milk! How about that?”

They stared at him, not looking even a little bit thrilled.

“Can we wait in the Tardis?” Rory asked, like a little boy asking his mum to stay home from school.

“No, you may not,” the Doctor said. “We’ve got loads of exploring to do. Amy, you like shopping, tell him. Plus, I shall need carrying help.”

Amy did not look as encouraging as the Doctor would have hoped.

“I just can’t wait,” Rory said, but followed along behind.

Really, Rory was so sarcastic!

The Doctor strode along, eagerly looking, anxious to explore, when he was stopped by a gray, flabby pair of arms and a voice to match.

“Parking permit?”

“What?” the Doctor cried. “Listen, I’ve never had one and I don’t intend to get one. Since when did you start charging for parking? I’ve seen whole Anduloi battle cruisers set down in here and nary a glance given to them, so don’t give me parking permit.”

“Sir, as per Section 1.56 of the Code of Regulatory Statutes Regarding the Universal Junkyard of Mintas 9 and updated on 13.53967/3, you are hereby required to purchase and display one of five different parking permit choices. I have a list I would be happy to show you.”

The alien spoke all of this in a monotone voice as if he was used to giving this same lecture all day, every day, and the Doctor highly doubted this person/entity – he wasn’t too clear on the species – got high reviews for customer service.

“Let me see that,” he said, grabbing the manual the alien carried and flipping through it quickly. “Why, this is ridiculous. You obviously haven’t read it very clearly. Maybe you were never taught to read, maybe reading isn’t allowed for your species, but in that case you shouldn’t have taken a job here. Now let me just point this out to you…”

The Doctor went through point by point with the slowly blinking alien exactly why he wasn’t going to be doing this while Amy and Rory looked at each other and sat down on a pile of junk that he wouldn’t tell them till much later involved anti-matter destabilizers and one jerky move from them could have sent them rocketing sky high.

“Excuse me,” said a rather familiar sounding voice, “is there a problem I can help with? I've found I'm rather good at that.”

The Doctor, interrupted mid-rant, looked from the splendid black boots up the serviceable pants to the combat jacket and shopping basket flung over one arm, to the mischievous eyes and smile of his very blonde, also dead, daughter Jenny.

“There’s a first time for everything,” the Doctor said and promptly fainted.

When he came to, approximately five minutes later by his internal chronometer, Rory was leaning over him with his nurse face on. The Doctor never told him this, but Rory was an amazing nurse and so he had, as discretely as possible, taught Rory everything necessary to know about Timelord physiology because if he was in trouble, he’d want Rory to treat him. He hadn’t done that with anyone since Martha but there was no use in telling Rory that because he’d only blush.

Nevertheless the Doctor could see that Rory didn’t have his serious nurse face on meaning that there probably wasn’t any cause for alarm which, really, the Doctor could have told Rory himself. He sat up and wondered why on earth he’d been hallucinating about Jenny. He thought about her all the time, probably every day in fact, but that was no reason for her to start being visibly tangible. He looked around and saw Amy looking rather concerned, the alien looking rather non-descript, and…Jenny looking rather happy.

“Hello, Dad,” she said, grinning.

Rory and Amy both did double-takes which the Doctor found rather amusing even in the midst of his now doubtful hallucinogenic state.

“Dad?” Amy blurted out. “What have you and River been doing?”

“River?” Rory said slowly as if the thought had not occurred to him and he turned a bit green which the Doctor highly preferred to red, which was the color Rory had turned the last time River had been mentioned; a situation which had left the Doctor cowering behind Amy while the Last Centurion made a truly spectacular speech about proper handling of other people’s daughters.

Really, the Doctor had quite regretted giving Rory a sword again.

“No, no, no,” the Doctor said, desiring to pre-empt any kind of similar event this time.

“I’m only just used to being a mother,” Amy said, swatting his shoulder. “Couldn’t you have waited awhile before making me a grandmother?”

“She’s not River’s,” the Doctor yelled, “and you can see her?”

“Of course they can see me,” Jenny said, who’d been watching the entire exchange with far too much glee. “I’m right here. And not dead, not even a little.”

“But you died,” the Doctor said, leaning forward and poking her a bit. “I saw it, Martha diagnosed it.”

“I’m a genetic anomaly,” Jenny told him, capturing his hand, “and apparently we’re more alike than you think. I just woke up, breathing gold dust or something like that. They told me you were gone. So I nicked a ship and went adventuring.”

“That’s my girl,” the Doctor crowed, gathering her in a hug, a very fierce one, enough to crack normal people’s spines, and thought his two hearts might burst from joy. “Born survivor!”

“Somebody explain this to me,” Rory said, leaning against Amy. “I’m having difficulty again.”

“Seconded,” Amy said.

“Though very glad about the it-not-being-River part,” Rory said.

“Seconded a second time,” Amy said.

“She was basically cloned from me,” the Doctor said, using small words, “and then she died. Only she didn’t die. Here she is. What have you been doing?”

“Saving planets, rescuing civilizations, defeating terrible creatures, and an awful lot of running,” she said happily. “And you?”

“The same, of course. Where do you think you get it from? Your mother?”

The Doctor and Jenny laughed, but Amy and Rory still looked confused. The alien’s expression hadn’t changed through the entire conversation but it appeared to be content to wait out the eccentric conversations of its employer's patrons so long as they didn't appear to be trying to shop before paying for outrageously expensive and unnecessary parking permits.

“There is a mother then?” asked Amy.

“No, there’s no mother. Look, I’ll explain it all later. Over food. Bet you’d love to eat.”

“Does this mean we don’t have to go junkyard shopping?” Rory asked hopefully.

“I don’t know why you’re so down on junkyards,” the Doctor said disapprovingly. “I’ve met some of my best friends in junkyards. And look who I met today!”

“What a lucky thing I decided to go shopping today,” Jenny said.

“What were you looking for?”

Jenny rattled off a list of some rather technical sounding gadgets that would go just right in the Tardis.

“And a really nice rug for the entryway,” she finished off and he wrinkled his nose a little bit, but she was only young, after all.

“Right, well, we should get going. Lots to do, lots to see and explore,” the Doctor said, taking it for granted that she would be coming. “I’ve got whole galaxies of things to show you, Jenny.”

“Can I fit a starship in your box?” she asked, apparently also not worried about suddenly changing residences.

“Do you have a reducer device anywhere in this area of the junkyard?” the Doctor asked, turning to the alien, who was still standing there.

“Parking permit.”

“You are a chap of one idea, aren’t you? Well, we’ll just get it elsewhere. I’ve probably got one on the Tardis. Jenny, anything you want to grab?”

“I’ll just get it out later after we mini-size it,” she said. “My parking permit is good for another three years. I thought it might take that long to find everything.”

“You were going to spend three years wandering around a junkyard?” Amy asked in astonishment.

Jenny nodded.

“Of course.”

“Why not?” the Doctor asked. “I did once.”

“You’ve got lives to spare, has she?” Amy asked.

“Speaking of which,” the Doctor said, pausing, feeling suddenly full of foreboding, “how did you know I was me?” He stepped closer and looked at her closely. “You’re not a clone of a clone, are you? Who are you?”

Jenny raised an eyebrow at his sudden harsh tone, but he honestly couldn’t help it. It would be horribly rude of someone to get his hopes up only to have it be some sort of ruse.

“You fainted and these two kept yelling, ‘Doctor, Doctor,’ and the girl, Amy, was it, called you a Timelord idiot.”

“Really?” the Doctor asked, looking at Amy, feeling hurt.

“I’ve called you much worse to your face, you baby,” she said.

“Yes, well, there is that,” he agreed and turned back to Jenny.

“I also don’t know how many of those strange blue boxes there are in the universe, but I’ve never seen any others so far. And I figured if I could heal, maybe you could change your face. It was all very logical,” she said.

“I’m very much considering leaving these two in the junkyard,” the Doctor said, jerking his thumb back at Amy and Rory, “because you are so very brilliant. Of course, I’d probably have to get a permit for them too, so we’ll just let them come along.”

“Do you want another bruise on that jaw of yours? Or to be bitten?” Amy asked. “Ask any psychiatrist I’ve ever had, I have very sharp teeth.”

“It’s true,” said Rory, probably from experience and not the pleasant kind.

“Don’t be touchy, Ponds,” the Doctor said, throwing his arms around them. “This is a very good day and that calls for celebration. One generally doesn’t find one’s generated anomaly DNA lying around a junkyard every day. I think Argose will do it.”

“Sounds like fun,” Jenny said, coming up to Amy and slinging a friendly arm around her shoulders. Amy raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. “How lovely to be traveling around the universe, the four of us.”

Amy and Rory looked at each other again with that silent communication bit that the Doctor found amazing in non-telepathic creatures and seemed to come to some sort of agreement.

“Can’t wait,” Rory said.

“Let’s go,” Amy agreed.

“Who’s River?” asked Jenny as they entered the Tardis and then clapped her hands in astonishment and seeming joy. “It’s bigger on the inside!”  



End file.
